


Anchors & Anvils

by egretudo



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, First Time, Lyrium Addiction, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-02-28 07:02:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2723123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egretudo/pseuds/egretudo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slow romance is blossoming between Inquisitor Evelyn Trevelyan and Commander Cullen Rutherford. But an unexpected incident with the Anchor forces her to avoid the Commander, out of necessity. Can Solas and the Herald find a solution before it's too late? Romance is difficult to balance against the very fabric of reality. And some anchors are heavier to bear than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Must we leave right away?" said the Inquisitor with a slight frown. "I haven't even had a proper bath yet."

Evelyn Trevelyan, the Herald of Andraste and leader of the Inquisition, had been in Emprise du Lion for nearly a month, sleeping in cold, boggy camps in between battling red templars and rift demons. She had returned to Skyhold triumphantly having acquired a new keep for their cause. But clearly, she was weary from her long journey.

"I smell like demon's arse," she continued, "And I don't know that I can inspire troops smelling like demon's arse." Commander Cullen, watching her from across the war table, felt the corners of his mouth twitch unbidden. Little did she know how radiant she was, blonde hair matted around her head, green eyes ablaze, face streaked with mud and demon goo. Even in such a state, she commanded every eye in the room.

"We can delay our departure until the morning," he said, summoning his most professional voice to exit his throat. "But a rift so close to Skyhold is a certain threat and must be dealt with immediately."

" _Our_ departure?" the Herald said with emphasis, snapping her head around to look at him. "Does that mean that you'll be accompanying us on this particular excursion, Commander Cullen?"

Cullen cleared his throat nervously. In his peripheral vision, he saw Josephine and Leliana exchange a coy look. Why was he cursed to be always surrounded by women, able to read the subtleties in every situation? If the war room was filled with men, they would be no more the wiser right now. He started in on the speech that he'd been rehearsing for the last month. "We're training a new set of special recruits that haven't had rift experience yet. It's time for them to get their feet wet. While awaiting your return, their commanding officers were deployed on other assignments, so I'll be supervising the training mission."

In truth, the second he'd learned of the rift's existence four miles outside of Skyhold, he'd hatched this plot, carefully calculating the timing of sending his supervising officers away to ensure that they would get a chance to spend some time together.

She picked up one of the war table pieces and turned it in her delicate hands. "Won't your duties suffer with you away from Skyhold?" she said distractedly.

Cullen paused. He hadn't expected resistance. "My duties will keep for a few days. Besides, I'm going a little stir-crazy and a hands-on mission could do me good." He glanced at her. "Assuming that's alright with you, of course."

"Of course, Commander," she said with a smile that did not reach her eyes, "I welcome your assistance." He searched her face for a sign of more enthusiasm, but all he found there was dread and stress.

They'd kindled a romance prior to her departure to Emprise de Lion. Some stolen kisses and glances was all they'd had time for before she left. The pretense of titles had been dropped and they'd embraced a new familiarity. He'd called her Eve, she called him Cullen. On her departure, they murmured soft promises to each other to pick up where they left off on her return.

Cullen had been in his office when he'd heard the horns sound. He knew what they meant. She had returned. It was impossible to ignore or suppress the strange mixture of adrenaline and nervous energy that hit his bloodstream and he found he didn't want to. He was elated to see her.

But upon her return, he had found her much changed. She had greeted him politely enough, but there was something cold and withdrawn in her demeanor. Brushing past him without any significant acknowledgment, she shouted to convene the war council immediately. But while here, nothing pressing seemed to present itself.

Something had happened and he didn't know what. Still, he was so desperate to be in her company, he felt he had no choice but to press this local rift engagement to buy them some much needed time together.

"If that covers everything," cut in Cassandra's strong, accented voice, "I have things to attend to."

"Yes, I think we're done here," said Evelyn with no small amount of relief. "See you in the morning," she said formally, nodding at Cullen and turning to exit the room.

"Enjoy your bath," he called after her softly. She paused, back to him in the doorway and he could see red creeping up the back of her neck. "Thanks," she muttered and exited the room quickly. It was good to see he still had some effect on her, but the tight coil of concern in his gut still ate at him.

He looked up at Josephine and Leliana and shrugged. Leliana put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a pitying look. "She's just exhausted. She carries the weight of us all on her. Don't worry too much about it."

"I hope you're right," he said shaking his head. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something larger was going on. By the Maker, he hoped she hadn't changed the way she felt about him.

Later that evening, after a long day of preparations, he strode through the great hall on his way to his quarters when he heard a familiar giggle echo through the chamber. Turning to his left and finding the proper angle, he secured a view into Solas's chamber where he spotted the source of the laughter.

Eve was with Solas. She was near him, crumpled over in laughter. He hovered over her - ever attentive. As he watched, she finished her gale of laughter and looked up, exchanging a meaningful glance with Solas. He said something, too low for Cullen to hear. She nodded her head solemnly, spoke back, and then...they embraced.

Cullen lowered his head. Of course. Solas had been with Eve the last month, travelling. It only made sense that she would have found companionship elsewhere. She was too lovely of a woman to not attract other suitors. Feeling like he was suddenly starved of oxygen, he strode ferociously out of the hall to the stairway. He gulped down the cold, night air, and feeling frustration well up, landed a blow on the stairwell wall. The sound of his armor clanging against the wall echoed coldly through the empty, dark courtyard.

The next few days were going to be long ones, indeed.

\---------------------------------

Warm, clean and dry for the first time in months, Eve watched quietly from the doorway as Solas leaned over the fire. Brewing tea was never a casual endeavor for him. It was a ritual, a meditation, a prayer even. It required special attention and she had learned from experience that it was not wise to break his concentration.

She observed his efficient movements and his face posed in reflection. Eve thought he always seemed someplace else in these moments. Or from someplace else. Somewhere ancient and mysterious.

He turned suddenly, two mugs of tea in hand, and offered one to her. "You knew I'd come," Eve said, with a small smile.

Solas nodded. "It seemed obvious, given the circumstances. This is the first time since Sarhnia that you've had to face this."

Taking a sip of the tea, Eve shivered as the liquid warmed her from the inside, replacing every cold area in her body with trickling warmth. "It was mostly easy to ignore in the field. Every time I felt my mind wander, I could go find a red templar to destroy instead. There was that constant stream of distractions. But now we're back, and he's… so…."

"I cannot say that I understand the appeal," said Solas. "He's a bit of a brute. The man lacks finesse. This trip he's planned for you two lacks any sort of subtlety."

"And I don't always understand your fascination with the Fade, but I don't give you a hard time about it," Eve countered.

This elicited a small smile from Solas. "Fair enough." He placed his mug on the table and leaned into it. "But the question remains of what you're going to do about this."

"That's the million sovereign question, isn't it?" echoed Eve.

Solas scratched his chin in thought. "It seems that the direct approach would be easiest, yes? Sit him down and come clean about the problem?"

"How, Solas? You make it sound so easy, but how, exactly, would I do that? Just walk up to him tomorrow and say 'I gave myself an orgasm in Emprise de Lion thinking of you and my anchor opened a rift in the Fade that drew desire demons through into our camp. So we can't have sex ever ever ever, it's too dangerous?'". As she spoke, she flushed from her cheeks to the tips of her ears.

Her thoughts returned to that night. It had been a quiet, almost magical night at their camp. The snow was falling lightly but it felt almost warm out. Bull had brought down a nightstalker in a nearby cave and had made a surprisingly delicious stew from it. It had inspired the Inquisitor to break out a bottle they'd discovered earlier that week of ancient Orlesian liquor. The bottle loosened tongues around the fire and everyone told stories of first loves. Moved by the spirit of the evening, Eve had gone to bed that night with lingering, unspoken thoughts of Cullen.

Unable to sleep, she had found herself late that night imagining what might be between them. Her body warmed with need, and she found herself touching her tender points, gently probing them and urging them into a frenzy. Absorbed in her fantasy, she didn't notice the anchor start to bubble and spit. And when she reached her peak, a green bolt shot from her hand into the sky. As her lust ebbed, she heard screaming outside of her tent.

Two men had died that night. The bolt had opened a rift that spawned a particularly powerful desire demon, right in the middle of camp. Slightly inebriated and sleepy, it had taken the group some time to subdue the creature, and it wreaked chaos and death through the camp before the night was over.

Luckily for Eve, most of the group had chalked the demon's appearance up to an enemy attack. But Solas had been awake, and had seen the beam emerge from her tent. There was no fooling him. She took him into her confidence, telling him everything.

The guilt had wrecked her for weeks. Her pleasure had led to the loss of innocent lives. It was difficult to live with, yet out of shame and caution, she could not tell anyone else. The anchor, her connection to the fade and her connection to Corypheus gave her reason enough to be feared without people also learning that she was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. She had leaned heavily on Solas for emotional support. And now she faced the final consequence of this incident - the fact that a relationship with Cullen at the present moment could put them all in jeopardy.

"I would say exactly that, yes. Sex risks death. That's very direct and straightforward," observed Solas solemnly. "There is certainly no ambiguity in that approach."

Eve stared at him, eyes wide with horror. "Solas, I cannot say that to him."

"Why ever not? Commander Cullen is a direct man. Surely he would see the practicality in such a statement."

"Neither of us is that direct in...ways of the heart, Solas. We are both shy." Eve thumped her mug down in protest. "I would rather let the fade swallow me up than say that to him," she muttered.

"Have you considered that your unwillingness to tell Cullen the truth is a form of denial? You wish to continue your romantic relationship with him in spite of this new development."

Eve hesitated. As always, Solas had the unique ability to cut to the truth of things.

"There are many solutions to the danger this problem poses, Inquisitor. You can be direct. You can end it with the Commander. You can absolve yourself of temptations of the flesh. But the truth is, none of those solutions are acceptable to you."

He was right, Eve realized. She knew that the power of the Anchor came with a price. The burden of leadership and the responsibilities of closing the rifts she could live with. But accepting the life of a monk, especially when she had such strong feelings for Cullen, she couldn't accept.

"It's getting worse, you know. Just now, I was up in the bath. I was only vaguely thinking about Cullen and the anchor began to pop and sparkle."

Solas raised an eyebrow. "How remarkable that the anchor is so responsive to your emotions. I understood the reaction at the peak of ecstasy, but to elicit activity in a quiet moment is surprising." He paced the room slowly. "Desire is one of the oldest and most powerful forces in the Fade. It's pull is strong. I suppose that what is more remarkable is that with a key to the Fade latched to your hand that you have not drawn more activity through the Rift in unguarded moments. It does credit to your emotional control."

Eve tried a tentative smile. "Thank you. That makes me feel a little less shameful about the whole thing."

He peered at her. "I did not hear shouts from the guards to face down another desire demon. What did you do to control the anchor?"

"I jumped out of the tub and doused myself in freezing cold water."

This procured a rare laugh from Solas.

She fixed him with pleading eyes. "I can't condemn myself to a life of cold showers. And I don't think they'll work forever, anyhow. There has to be another way. You understand the anchor better than anybody. Can't you help me figure something out?"

Eve watched the elf's mind ponder this scenario. He had no particular patience for matters of the heart, but the intellectual puzzle she had proposed to him may have held some appeal.

"We're looking for a way to suppress the anchor's power, then. You do realize, that if we discover such an ability that while it may solve this particular...matter, it might also create a weapon that could be used against you and your abilities? It may be possible to solve this riddle, Inquisitor, but the answer may be a dangerous one."

"Then we must keep it secret," said Eve hurriedly, excited Solas was getting on board. "We must work on this problem without letting anybody know until we're certain of what we've discovered. Only you and I will know about this."

"And the good Commander? You join him on that mission in the morning."

Eve groaned. In the excitement of solving this problem, she had forgotten that she was facing several days basically alone with Cullen in the mountains. Avoiding him thus far had been extremely difficult. She wasn't certain how would survive the next few days without ripping a few rifts in the sky.

"Perhaps you can call in sick?" Solas suggested in a voice that she'd come to learn meant he was making a joke. "I can write you a note. The Inquisitor is hereby excused from closing rifts for the next week due to a sudden, serious case of vhenan'ara."

She giggled. "What does vhenen'ara mean?"

Solas smiled. "It means desire. Literally, you are sick with desire. It's not actually a lie."

She couldn't suppress her laughter and it rang out of her, echoing through the room. It came out frothily, bubbling partially with relief that Solas was going to help her address this problem, partially with nerves that they may not find a solution.

He looked down at her, brows knitted, voice low. "In all seriousness, I suggest I come along with you on this trip. Perhaps I can serve - in the role of cold water - while we seek out a solution."

Her smile reached wide as she stood and placed her hand on his. "You're a good friend, Solas. Thank you." She gave him an impromptu hug.

Sleep was not going to be easy to come by the rest of the night, so she instead begged Solas to tell her more stories of the spirits he had met in the Fade. She asked him question after question until she drifted off gently in her chair to touch the Fade herself.


	2. Chapter 2

The night’s slushy precipitation had left thick puddles in the courtyard overnight, and Cullen’s heavy armored boots sank into the mud with a dispirited squishing sound. It was early. The sun hung low in the sky and the morning had not yet lost its chill. 

The horses were saddled and amidst the preparations of the recruits, the Inquisitor stood, striking in newly upgraded armor with a blue hue, adjusting her stirrups. Beside her, Solas was already seated on his horse, eyeing the commander warily.

“Good morning,” Cullen managed to say somewhat cheerily. “A fine day for a ride, it seems.”

“Indeed, Commander,” said Eve curtly.

“I did not realize that you would be joining us Master Solas. Surely you are tired from your recent journey.” said Cullen through his teeth.

Solas was casual in his response. “With a rift so near Skyhold, I cannot pass up an opportunity for further study. Besides,” he continued, waving his hand dismissively, “I am no more tired than the Lady Inquisitor. And seeing as she is making the journey, why should I not?”

Cullen cursed inwardly, feeling his worst suspicions about the two of them were confirmed. _So they are a package deal now, are they? Maker, this trip is going to be unbearable._ “We will, no doubt, benefit greatly from your added skills and expertise,” he said clenching his fists tightly. “I am glad to have you aboard.” _If you touch her in front of me, I will slit your throat,_ he thought sullenly.

Cullen beckoned a recruit to bring him a horse and he saddled swiftly, a feat not easy in his heavy armor, but something he’d mastered with decades of practice. Ensuring preparations were made, he gave the order to start the march, setting the pace himself at the front.

Eve watched him lead on while bringing up the rear. It was rare that she actually got to see Cullen in action, and his easy air of command and grace on his horse made her gut quaver. 

“He was not happy to see me,” said Solas, riding at her side.

“He seemed amiable enough,” she responded, still staring.

Solas gave her a sidelong glance. “He barely concealed his annoyance. My presence here spoils his purpose.”

_His purpose was to get me alone. And then what?_ Eve wondered as she rubbed at her palm with her fingers. Even through her riding gloves, she could feel the anchor sparking like constant discharges of static electricity.

“Is your hand already troubling you?” said Solas with surprise. Eve nodded warily. “Was it like this, before? When he initiated romantic encounters?”

Eve shrugged. “It might have been. I wasn’t exactly paying attention to it at the time. But now...”

Solas’s lips made a thin line. “Now every twinge brings you fear that you’ll lose control.” Eve slowly nodded, glad he understood. “Clearly this trip is not going to be as straightforward as just keeping you two apart. Between your little problem and the commander prepared to murder me, we have our work cut out for us.”

“He doesn’t want to murder you, Solas,” Eve insisted. In response, Solas raised his eyebrow at her. He was annoyingly good at the single eyebrow raise. “Okay, maybe he wouldn’t mind roughing you up a bit,” she acknowledged, chuckling. “But he’s not the murdering type.” 

“When it comes to you, I am not convinced of that,” he deadpanned. 

She changed the subject quickly. “Have you given more thought to our particular puzzle? Any inspiration struck?” 

“Perhaps,” he said. “I observed you for a time last night while you were sleeping.”

“Watching me sleep again, Solas? Didn’t we talk about that being a little creepy?”

“When you sleep, you touch the Fade, and I can observe the interaction between your anchor and that world. There’s hardly anything ‘creepy’ about it. It’s research.”

“Research. Fine,” she said resigned, but still a little creeped out. “Did you learn anything?”

“Not particularly. But something did occur to me. Your little...outbursts...are provoked by strong emotion. Emotion strong enough to reach into the Fade and attract spirits on the other side. The anchor, when activated strongly enough, offers them entrance into this world. One way to prevent this would be to stop the emotion.”

“We’ve been through this,” she said with exasperation. “If I could stop feeling things about Cullen, I would. It’s not exactly something I have control over.”

“I understand that. I’m talking about cutting off your connection to the emotion altogether.”

Eve looked at him in shock. “You’re talking about making me Tranquil?” His silence served as assent. “I can’t believe you would even consider that! Not only would you erase me of everything that makes me me, wouldn’t that destroy my connection to the fade entirely? I wouldn’t be able to close rifts anymore.”

“But you wouldn’t be able to open them either,” said Solas grimly. “Consider the Rite of Tranquility an option of last resort. If you lose control of the anchor and our other efforts fall short. Surely it is a better option than killing you.”

Shocked into silence, Eve rode quietly for a long while, eyes scanning the mountain peaks and ears listening to horse hooves sink into powdery snow, contemplating what Solas had said. Solas was taking this more seriously than she initially imagined. She had never considered that her loss of control over the anchor might not be a one-time incident, and could be something doomed to get worse. Her eyes caught Cullen at the front of the pack, straight-backed and strong, and she sighed.

“Do you think the Maker wishes me to be unhappy, Solas?” she asked.

“If the Maker exists, I doubt your unhappiness is his primary focus.”

Eve snapped him playfully with her reigns. “I’m serious, Solas. All of this Herald of Andraste stuff. I’m just now starting to believe that I have some fate, some destiny to play in all of this. But does fulfilling that destiny mean that I’ll never know love?”

“You have the love and devotion of your people. Your followers.”

“You know I don’t mean that kind of love.”

“Some would argue that the love and devotion of peoples and nations are superior forces to the love of just one partner.”

“Peoples and nations do not keep me warm at night.”

“Have you tried a hot water bottle?”

Despite herself, the Inquisitor laughed. The acerbic wit of Solas was a balm to her battered soul. The remainder of the ride, they focused on lighter topics.

Cullen couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances towards the rear of the pack from time to time. Eve and Solas had ridden next to each other in the back the full day, alternating between seemingly serious and jovial matters. 

Mind wandering, he thought back to the last crush he had on a woman who was a force of nature: the champion of Kirkwall. He had admired her, thought they had some initial chemistry, only to find out that she was romantically involved with an elf who was a mage. Fenris, his name had been, if he recalled correctly. Was it happening again? What was the appeal with sullen magical elves anyhow?

He shook his head mutely and guided his horse along a difficult portion of trail. His feelings about Kirkwall’s champion had been blissfully shallow and then lost altogether in the aftermath of the explosion. Truth be told, he’d always been prone to developing crushes on powerful women. But Eve was something else altogether. He had been sure that his feelings for her were not one-sided. He had been certain that they were slowly, cautiously developing a deep bond -- a tether that anchored them to each other across all of the chaos. 

He had thought their caution justified. They were at war, after all. She was the leader of their movement and spent a lot of time away from Skyhold. He had a past that nearly made him damaged goods. She was noble, he was just an ex-templar with no name or wealth. They both had uncertain futures. There were so many reasons not to pursue their relationship. Caution seemed warranted, but what was happening now was more than just caution. He hoped desperately that he had not mistaken ambivalence for caution. 

He thought of the embraces and kisses they’d stolen on the wall of the keep. The way that she warmed and bloomed when they’d touched. The look in her eyes when they were alone. The way she sought him out at every small opportunity. He thought he’d been certain where this was headed. He’d spent so much time convincing himself that he was worthy of her and that despite the risks, they deserved to pursue this happiness. And oh Maker, she made him happy.

But now, without a word from her, it had all changed. She apparently didn’t even have the courtesy to dump him outright. It infuriated him.

Cullen decided then and there that he wasn’t going to lose her without a fight.

The sun was getting low. They’d descended a few thousand feet and the snow here was sparser, giving way to patches of green. Cullen motioned for the group to halt and trotted out to an overlook. The valley stretched out before him, and toward the bottom he could just make out the newly born rift, a neon green dot shimmering out of place over the winding river.

They were on a suitable flat. “We’ll make camp here for the night,” said Cullen, dispatching the crisp orders that sent his recruits into a frenzy of building tents and emptying food bags.

Solas and Eve made a smaller fire to the east of camp and took their meal away from the rest of the group. Having secured his bowl of stew, Cullen made a sudden decision and stalked in their direction.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked casually. There was no response from the two of them except Eve looking at Solas warily. “I always find it’s important as commander to keep a professional distance from the troops,” he continued, attempting to justify his intrusion.

“Of course, Commander,” said Solas simply. “Please, sit.” While Cullen made himself comfortable on a patch of ground, Eve gave Solas a murderous look which he returned with a shrug.

“What were you two chatting about?” asked Cullen innocently.

“I was just telling Solas how badly I needed some cold water.” Eve said pointedly, the reference lost on Cullen.

“I wouldn’t advise drinking anything but boiling water in this frosty weather, Inquisitor. But if you’ll indulge me...” He reached into his cloak and withdrew a flask from some hidden pocket, offering it to Eve with a smile. “If you’re thirsty, give that a try.” 

She popped the cork and sniffed tentatively at the opening, expecting a smell resembling cleaning fluid. But instead, she caught a whiff of heaven. Surprised, she took a sip and let the sweet floral and fruity flavors dance across her tongue and slide down her throat. “Honey wine!” she exclaimed with delight. “An Ostwick variety too! I haven’t had any in ages - it’s impossible to get out here with the trade bans. How did you manage it?”

Cullen’s smile was wide. “I have ways.”

“Do those ‘ways’ include Leliana’s involvement?” 

“I admit, she may have helped a bit. Is it good?”

Good did not begin to cover it. “It tastes like...home. Remind me to thank her. And thank you.” She tried to pour the gratitude she was feeling into her eyes.

“Didn’t I hear that honey wine could cause hideous, incurable skin rashes?” broke in Solas.

Cullen cursed inwardly. Solas was clearly going to do anything he could to rob him of a win. “I very much doubt that,” he said coldly.

“No, I’m certain that I heard that somewhere. Rashes with big purple blisters and pus-filled sores. Resistant to all known treatments, botanical and magical. Nasty business.” 

Eve, sensing the tension building between the two men, leapt to her feet and faked a yawn. “I think I’m going to turn in. It’s been a long day.”

Cullen scrambled to his feet as well. “Of course. Your tent is near mine. Let me show you where.” Solas began to follow them, but Cullen interjected. “Solas, I know how you value your privacy, so I had my men set up your tent at the other end of camp. It will be quieter for you that way.”

Solas knew when he was beaten. “Of course, Commander. What a thoughtful gesture. Restful sleep to you both,” he said with a small incline of his head. Then he was gone. 

They were alone. Mercifully, their tents were only a few short steps from the campfire. Eve looked up to bid Cullen a simple good night, and there he was. Smoldering at her. With that intense look that turned her insides to liquid goo and made her legs weaken under her.

She had to redirect this to safer energy and grabbed the only topic available to her. Gesturing towards his tent she asked “Do you sleep well, while in the field?”

His face relaxed slightly. “Not really, no. I’ve always found it difficult to get comfortable on the ground in full armor.”

“You sleep… in your full armor?” she said surprised.

He looked at her curiously. “A solider must always be prepared. Don’t you?”

“Maker, no,” she said more emphatically than she would have liked. “I would never get any rest if I did.”

“What do you sleep in, then?”

A wicked smile crossed her face and she looked up at him mischievously. “Good night, Commander,” she said, turning swiftly on her heels.

He admired her as she walked to her tent, heart flip-flopping to the time signature her hips beat as she walked, wondering exactly what she wore to bed. _Maker, this woman is going to be the death of me._

As her tent flap closed, Eve loosed her breath and ripped the glove from her hand, which was sending up small green flares with regularity. Forcefully grabbing her wrist, she tried desperately to think of anything but Cullen.


	3. Chapter 3

Eve woke to the sound of shouts. Her thoughts flashed back to the desire demon she summoned in Sarhnia and she gulped with worry, her stomach pitted. But then, with discipline borne from experience, she swiftly tamped her panic down and gathered herself. Grabbing her two blades, she rushed out of her tent and looked around wildly.

There was no demon this time. Instead, in the middle of the camp sat three large bears, making swift work of the camp’s food stores. She felt someone approach at her back. It was Cullen, fully armored, sword drawn. “Maker’s Breath,” he complained loudly as he saw the bears, “Did no one put the food away?”

The recruits were busy luring one of the bears away with some additional sausages. And doing a good job of it too - the bear disappeared out of sight down the hill. But suddenly, the other two bears looked up and realized they had an audience. Rearing up to their full, enormous height, claws and teeth bared to terrifying effect, they began to roar and lash out.

“Are you ready for this?” Cullen said, glancing quickly at Eve and suddenly wishing he hadn’t. By the Maker, what was she wearing? Not only did she not have on any armor, she was stripped down to what amounted to a crop top and panties. Her entire lithe, muscular figure was on display, alternately lit by the red dying flames of their campfire and blue moonlight. He felt his jaw drop to the floor. She was glorious. 

She looked at him and winked cheekily. “I’ll take right, you take left?” In a flash she had thrown herself into the fray, deftly dodging the bear’s clumsy attacks and darting in with swift slashes to the bear’s back.

It had been some time since Cullen had seen her fight. Her technique was much improved over the last months. She had always been a solid warrior, but her newfound speed and confidence elevated her into a literal force of nature. And...Maker save him...did she just do a back flip? He was momentarily frozen with awe.

The spell was broken when the bear on the left made a sudden lunge towards her blind spot. “Eve!” he cried, and flung himself with all his strength into the gap, thrusting his shield towards the bear to meet him blow for blow.

The bear’s weight drove him back, and he felt himself suddenly fighting back to back against Eve. The sensation was reassuring, and as he plunged himself into the fight, he found himself starting to enjoy the battle. Sparring had become tiresome for him over the course of this long war, but fighting at her side was invigorating and exciting. Defend, bash, parry, stab, slash. The bear was a worthy opponent, strong and stout, but Cullen was feeling nearly invincible.

That was, until he heard the cry. He twisted his neck to see Eve’s blades clang to the ground. Her body staggered against the snow, reeling from contact with the desperate bear’s claws. _She has no armour, no shield_ , he reminded himself. _I can’t leave her defenseless_. Fear focused his mind. Adrenaline honed his instincts. He knew, with the sharp clarity of lightning, what he needed to do. 

The bear he was fighting reared up. In one smooth circular motion, Cullen arcked his sword through the air, spinning and twisting his body. His sword plunged into the side of the thick head of the bear, while simultaneously his shield scooped and gathered the stunned body of Eve inside of it, tucking her carefully between his shield and his armor.

His sword arm quavered with the force of the blow. It made his bones ache. He ignored it. His eyes quickly scanned the wounds at her left shoulder. “Hello there,” she murmured, face pale and close. While bleeding heavily, the scratches appeared superficial, thank the Maker.

Lacking sufficient leverage to reclaim his sword, now embedded in the dense skull of the now dead bear, he abandoned it in favor of using his other arm to pull his shield, and thus Eve, closer to him. “Are you okay?” he breathed gently.

“Cullen,” she said, looking into his eyes.

“Yes?” he breathed expectantly, joy surging through him that she’d spoken his name.

“The bear, Cullen,” Shit. He’d forgotten the other bear. Which was now rounding on him for another go. He looked quickly at his abandoned weapon, and realized he wouldn’t recover it in time, not without leaving Eve vulnerable.

“My boot,” she said urgently, twisting down to indicate her left boot. He reached down and came back, surprised by how swiftly he located three small daggers. She reached for them, grimacing at the pain in her left shoulder. “When I say now, turn your back to the bear.”

There was no time to argue with her. The bear had completed its charge and was now rearing up for its attack. “NOW!” shouted Eve. With some idea of what she had in mind, he rotated them so his back faced the bear, a human shield between it and her, and ducked down slightly to give her a field of view. She took aim and let loose. The knives made small whooshing sounds as they flew through the air. Over his shoulder, he could see them simultaneously land smartly in their targets: head, neck, and heart.

“Bulls-eye!” he cried elatedly.

“Timber!” he heard Eve shout in response. She was right, he realized. The bear’s forward momentum was going to pull its two ton frame down directly on them. He acted with pure instinct to protect Eve. With all of his might, he thrust his shield face downwards into the snow, with Eve still laying prostrate on it, and then threw his body over her.

The bear flattened them with an enormous impact. Cullen’s breath exited his chest in a rush and the world around him faded to black.

When he came to, his vision was still black and the pressure of the bear on him was oppressive. “Eve!” he called out in semi-panic, unable to see her in the darkness.

“I’m here. I’m okay,” he heard a small voice say. “Oof. A little flatter than usual, but okay,” she said. He could feel her now, her breath hot against his cheek. “Are you okay? I thought I’d lost you there a moment.”

He wiggled his toes and his fingers. Thankfully, they still seemed to work. “I check out,” he said. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

He felt her chest flutter in and out quickly and became worried. “Am I hurting…” he started to say and then realized that she was _laughing_. “Are you...laughing?” he said incredulously. 

“You really do sleep in your full armor,” he was able to make out through her giggles.

_And you really don’t_ , he thought. “You should be glad of it, too. After all, my sleeping habits just saved your…” 

Before he could finish the sentence, he felt her lips, tentatively whispering over his. He froze for a moment, certain in their pancaked situation it was just an accident. But they came again, more purposeful and insistent this time. He returned the kiss, vigorously, his blood singing. Damned his bloody armor! The bear’s weight ensured that he could not get enough air, and his armor ensured that he could not feel more of her. The lack of both left him feeling quite dizzy. The moment became surreal and blurry, like something from a dream. A really, really good dream.

“One, Two, Three!” he heard mutedly from another universe. And suddenly the pressure inhibiting his breathing was gone, and the bear was rolled off of them. He blinked into the light, slowly realizing they were surrounded by the entire camp. 

“They’re alive!” announced a recruit, and a triumphant cry went up amongst the ranks. “And they’re kissing,” said another recruit jovially. “They aren’t kissing you moron. She’s the bloody Inquisitor. The bear had smashed them together is all,” berated his companion.

Solas’s voice cut through the noise. “The Inquisitor is wounded. Help them up, idiots.”

With aid, Cullen made it to his knees and offered Eve his hand. She accepted it gladly and popped up, offering him a shaky smile, seemingly little worse for wear. Her hand lingered on his for longer than was strictly necessary, but then Solas approached and she dropped it like it was a hot stone. 

“And just where have you been?” she scolded Solas as he ran his hand over her wound.

“Humans. You can’t pop out for one moonlit walk without them getting into terrible trouble.” The tone of his voice clearly indicated that trouble he was referring to was not just bears.

As he examined her, Eve slowly became aware of the stares of some of the soldiers and remembered exactly how little she was currently wearing. Her boldness faded. Some of the recruits began to snigger. Feeling self-conscious, she curled her arms tightly around herself. 

Cullen saw blush start to creep across Eve’s cheeks. That was quite enough.

“The third bear?” Cullen asked a nearby recruit, who snapped to attention at the question.

“We handled it, sir.” 

Cullen nodded and then raised his voice, using his command tone. “Let all of you remember this night. Remember it well, men. That it took twelve of you, in full arms and armour to take down a single bear, when the Herald, your Inquisitor, brought one down by herself in her knickers. With not one of you coming to aid her.” With each additional word, Cullen stared daggers into the eyes of the men that had been laughing.

Thoroughly chastened, heads starting to hang, Cullen’s tone then softened. “Still, it was a well fought first battle, lads. And we’ll be better prepared to face the rift in the morning. Let Solas tend to any of your wounds once he’s finished with the Inquisitor. And for the love of Andraste, somebody properly hang the food in a tree away from camp.”

Solas quickly whisked Eve away to her tent, presumably to shove elfroot into her. Cullen retrieved his sword, had the men skin the bears, made sure the camp was properly secured, and then made his way to his tent. As he collapsed on the ground, his armor felt less cumbersome and awkward than usual. The simultaneous distraction of his confusion and his hope made for softer ground, indeed.

Confusion ran rampant in Eve’s tent as well. Solas had many questions, and fired them rapidly, not waiting for answers.

“What were you thinking? Kissing him like that? And in the heat of battle too? Who knows what you could have brought down on your heads? Bears could have been the least of your worries.”

She winced. Both at his words and at his ministrations as he used his magic to close her wounds. “I’m sorry, Solas. I just...wasn’t.”

“Wasn’t what?”

“Thinking. I wasn’t thinking. I was just sitting there squashed to pieces, in the dark, and I smelled him. He smelled like wet grass and campfires. His weight was on me. And I just… I didn’t think.”

“Clearly,” Solas said. Her palm was getting active again. He grabbed it and inspected it.

“This won’t do,” he murmured, turning her hand over in his. “I can feel it starting to tear the Fade, Evelyn. It won’t be long now. It may not even require a sex act. The intensity grows.” He looked at her, and saw a quiet tear dripping down her cheek. “It pains you?”

She nodded. “I don’t want to be made tranquil, Solas. But I don’t know how to control this.”

Solas fell quiet for a moment, then stood. “Come,” he said, exiting the tent.

Eve dressed quickly, then followed him out into the cold, starry night. They walked for some time side-by-side in silence, until they came upon a small cabin. The tiny shelter had clearly not been used in an age, and he led her inside.

The one room, barely long enough to spread arms wide in, was damp and smelled of mildew. A single desk and chair served as decoration, with a tall stack of books piled in the corner. 

“How did you know about this place?” asked Eve.

Solas did not respond and used his magic to light a small candle on the desk.

“I have a plan,” he said at last. “But you’re not going to like it. You’re going to have to trust me.” 

Eve hesitated. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

He gestured to the floor. “All you need to do is sleep. Sleep here.”

She looked at the musty ground, and then back at him, unsure. She’d slept in worse places. That was not her concern. 

“Solas? Tell me. What are you planning?” she said with worry. 

His blue-grey eyes were still as he stepped towards her. “You do trust me, don’t you Eve?” He was close and calm, but she always had trouble reading his expressions. Something in her sensed danger. But she did trust Solas. He had not failed her so far. She met his gaze and nodded.

“Then sleep,” he repeated. “Do not fear. I will be here.”

With one last nod, trying to convince herself, she squeezed herself into the one available space on the dank floor. Solas settled into the chair. Trying to ignore her pulsating hand, his fixed stare, her thoughts of Cullen, and the voices of warning in her head, she closed her eyes and called for sleep.

She kept her armor on.


	4. Chapter 4

It was quiet and it was dark. And then suddenly Eve was aware. Her awareness came to her in blinking flashes.  _flash._ Hazy shapes appeared, liquid and unsteady.  _flash._ Shapes became firmer. She had a sense of place. But whatever the place was looked foggy and covered in green mist.  _flash._ The mist cleared. Eve found herself blinking and warm under a clear, green sky. She curled her toes and felt warm sand under her feet. Purple waves lapped at a shore dotted by blue trees.

She reached down and grabbed a fistful of the fine, white sand, letting it fall through her fingers. "Where am I?" she wondered out loud.

"Where you wished to be," responded Solas's voice behind her.

She spun and there he was, standing not far from her on the beach, staff in hand. "Solas," she named him. "I don't...I don't exactly remember how we got here," she said, her head a bit foggy.

"We are in your dream," said Solas. "You willed us here and you gave this place shape."

"So we're in the Fade?" she asked.

Solas nodded. "Not physically, of course. You are dreaming. It puts us in a plane directly parallel to the Fade. I have touched your dream and entered it." He looked around and smiled slightly. "This is a place made of will, and we are where you have willed us. I must say, you have become quite adept at manipulating the Fade over the last months. This creation of yours is lovely. Much more peaceful than some of your others."

She started. "This is not the first time we have done this? Shared a dream?"

"I walk your dreams often. You do not often remember," Solas responded quietly, face slightly sour.

She peered at him curiously. "What happens now? Why have we come here?"

"We have come," said Solas, advancing towards her, "because you need this." He was arm's length away and came even closer, into what she considered her personal space. As he advanced, his form shifted. He became broader and taller. His staff shifted out of view. Hair sprouted from his head, curly and blonde. His ears shrank. Changed utterly, he stood in front of her, impossibly close. "We have come, Eve, because you need me," he said in a lower, familiar voice.

"Cullen?" she whispered in confusion. She reached up and brushed his cheek with her knuckle and he closed his eyes in response. He was solid enough, certainly. "Is it you? I don't understand."

He reached down and threaded his fingers through hers and slowly brought them to his lips. "All you need to understand right now is how long I have watched you. How much I admire you." With his other hand, he reached for her hair and brushed a stray piece from her face. "How long I have desired you."

His golden eyes raked over her. "You look lovely," he murmured. Eve's eyes followed his downwards. Gone was her armor, replaced by a dress that consisted of four loose, cascading pieces of light grey chiffon, plunging down her body like drapery and bound at the waist with a braided tie. Simple and powerful, it looked like something an ancient goddess would wear. She couldn't recall having anything in her closet remotely matching it.

"Where…?" she started to form questions with her lips but couldn't quite find the words. Something was tugging at her. Something didn't quite make sense. But then he drew her close and she felt him, thick and warm and real against her. He trailed his hand down her exposed spine and her insides turned into molten liquid. There was no reason not to want this. This was all she had wanted. All she had denied herself.

Sighing, she raised her lips to claim his, but he surprised her by instead picking her up and laying her down on a soft surface. In her peripheral vision she spied a bed post.  _Why is there a bed in the middle of the beach?_ she wondered. A part of her mind reminded her that this was the farthest thing from normal, but as his fingers stroked lingering, worshiping paths down her body, slipping under fabric, burning her skin with each mark, her dream-addled mind crowded out such thoughts, replacing them with physical sensation.

Lying alone on the bed, with him perched next to her, she felt slightly empty. "Cullen," she pleaded, reaching for him.

"Shhh…" he said softly, catching her hands. "This is about you." And with that, he dropped pretense and reached both hands under the open fold of her gown to massage her breasts. She gasped and arched into the sensation. Nimble fingers plucked at her nipples, and with each deft squeeze and tweak she felt electricity building equally in the anchor and between her legs.

Already frustrated, she squeezed her legs together tightly, sighing at the feeling. Cullen gave a low chuckle. He leaned in towards her, his whispering breath tickling her ear. "So impatient, Inquisitor. Just like on the battlefield. You insist on jumping straight into the thickest of the action." As he spoke, he pulled slowly at the tie around Eve's waist and pulled the draped fabric away, exposing her.

He raised over her and their eyes met. His face showed strain and he looked slightly savage. "My willful one. Allow me to oblige you," he said with a half-smile, reaching his hands down and pressing his palms simultaneously into her clitoris and vagina.

The sudden, deep pressure sent a wave of pleasure crashing through her entire body. Her nervous system was like an elevator that had been suddenly accelerated to the 100th floor and now floated at its apex. She dimly heard a roar and crash, and felt cool wetness spray over her body. She tasted salt. The ocean had risen up in simultaneous empathy, crashing a wave over their bed. Carried by the water, the bed bobbed through the froth as the wave extended and began to recede. Her eyes traced the wave's path.

"Ignore the ocean, Eve," came a warning voice. "Close your eyes and focus on what you're feeling."

What  _was_ she feeling? It was like the air had suddenly exploded with a thousand wriggling fingers, stroking her, pushing her, vibrating and coaxing her both inside and out. She floated helpless in the current of sensation, ebullient, overwhelmed, edging closer and closer to a peak.

It was physical bliss, but feeling emotionally alone, she opened her eyes and peered down to try to link this sensation to her partner. All she saw was a golden head in silhouette, hunched over her, coddling a bright ball of magical light. Before she could react to what she was seeing, the wave of pleasure focused and again carried her sharply upwards. She cried out, felt her muscles contract and her pelvis arch. And with the second or third sailing pulse, she felt the sharp, telling pain in her hand as the anchor sent a bolt into the sky.

Momentarily helpless to respond, she lay limply on the bed and eyed the green sky as it pulsed even greener and tore open. Cullen stood straight at the base of the bed, suddenly all business, ocean water up to his knees. Beyond him, a desire demon and a pride demon erupted from the breach. Cullen's reaction was instantaneous. He raced towards the demons, calling back to her. "I'll hold them off! Disrupt the rift when you're able!"

Another delicious aftershock overtook her as she tried to get to her feet. Her bare feet plunged into the ocean and the cool water started to bring her to her senses. Her feet were bare. She had hardly anything on. She had no weapons. How was she to fight the demons? She squinted her eyes towards Cullen and began to make her way towards him. Perhaps he had an extra weapon she could use. She couldn't just leave him to fight a pride and a desire demon by himself.

As she ran towards him, trying to command her shaky legs, she became vaguely aware that something about his fighting style seemed off. Then it hit her. He had a staff. He was fighting the demons with magic. With each flick of his staff, his magic reserves diminished, and the glamour he'd cast wore thinner and thinner.

There was little time to contemplate. The demons had him surrounded. Eve reached the radius surrounding the rift where she could feel the tug of the anchor call to its green heart. Raising her hand, she loosed it as wildly as she could. She felt the dark hum of magic connecting to its source. Erupting with black and smoke, the rift emitted a horrific cracking sound. Instantly, the demons were tugged from their attack stances into the whirling singularity. Eve stood on the beach, hand still pressed to the sky, watching in awe as the rift collapsed in on itself and was gone.

Where Cullen had been, Solas now stood. He jogged up to her, chuckling. "Well done," he said. "That was even easier than I expected."

Eve could barely speak. "What the  _hell_  is going on, Solas" she made out, voice dangerously quiet, quaking with rage.

Solas gave her a sympathetic smile. "Wake up, Inquisitor. And we shall discuss all."

She realized someone was shaking her from far away. The beach fell from her field of vision and the world once again went black. Climbing upwards, she heard a voice, crisper than she remembered voices being. "Wake up, Inquisitor."

Eve blinked awake. She was in the shed, weak daylight streaming through the wooden wall slats. Then a flood of memory rushed towards her, and her body flinched, spasming sharply. Solas observed her from his chair and made no motion to help her.

"Solas. What the fuck," she got out.

"It was just a dream, Inquisitor," he said evenly.

She stared at him wildly. "That was not  _just_  a dream."

He looked a little bit startled. "You remember, then?"

"Of course I remember," she hissed.

He colored slightly and tilted his head. "I…that is...unfortunate," he replied.

Eve got to her feet and placed her back to the wooden wall for stability and security. She tried to gain control over her breath. Panicking wasn't going to help anything. "Explain to me what just happened."

Solas stood as well. "Let's talk as we walk. Day has struck and they will be missing us at camp." Hesitating, she finally nodded. He turned on his heel and strode out the door. She had to jog to catch up with him.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. It was a sunny morning, almost warm. The snow crunched pleasurably under their feet, oblivious to the mute tension between them.

Eve tried to turn over the memories she'd retained from the dream, trying to make sense of what had occurred. Had she and Solas been intimate? Had he deceived her, drawn her into bed by wearing Cullen's face? Perhaps Cullen had been a manifestation of her dream. A romantic partner created by her will in the fade. But he'd never kissed her. He'd sent her to the brink with magic. He did not act like a Cullen her head would have created.

The more she relived the experience, the more certain she was that boundaries had been crossed. Nothing about the misty echoes of that place seemed to make sense, but she was determined to have answers. Finally, Solas started to speak.

"It's...I…" he uncharacteristically fumbled, "I had a theory. The dreaming plane is a dimension further from reality and nearer the fade. I thought that if we could dispel the excess energy of the anchor there, that we could risk opening a rift there, and dispatch of the demons in such a manner without putting any others at risk. I admit, I am surprised at how well it worked."

"You're surprised," she spat out sarcastically.

"Yes, Inquisitor." he said rapidly, not giving her a chance to speak. "Look at your palm." She did. The anchor was quiet. It had not been that quiet since Haven. "The energy was dispelled. The anchor is even more powerful in the dreaming plane than I'd imagined. You can safely open rifts and dispatch enemies quickly there. You did well."

Her shock was rendering her mute. Solas had seduced her in the dream plane as a cure for her anchor? Without even telling her what was going on? "Who did I just...I mean...were you involved in me...us...somehow?"

She could see Solas' posture tighten but he waved his hand dismissively. "It's clear what is required to discharge the energy. The anchor's pent-up energy has been loosed. We should be safe from its effects for some time."

"But was I...were you...did we...?" she persisted.

Solas sighed and stopped walking for a moment. "Remember when I told you that you had created the beach with will? Your mind also created the illusion that was necessary to solve your problem."

She couldn't meet his eyes. "Was it my illusion, though? Because it seemed as if you were…"

Solas cut through her sentence, voice angry. "It doesn't matter Inquisitor. You saw and felt what you needed to. You weren't meant to even remember."

Anger began to cut through her shock. Her voice lashed out. "I wasn't meant to remember what? You deceiving me? You violating me?"

He peered at her concernedly. "You feel violated?" His voice quavered just slightly.

"Yes," she shot back. His face fell. "No," she quickly corrected. "I don't know. This is confusing and complicated. I need to better understand."

He began walking away from her. "Solas," she called after him, desperate for answers, "please..."

He whirled on her, angrier than she'd ever seen him. "It's HE that makes you want to tear rifts into the sky, so it is HE that you saw. Why is that so difficult to understand?" Releasing his breath violently, he tried to collect himself. When he did, his words seemed designed to reassure himself. "My plan was administered and it worked. You are safe and that was my purpose. Come, they will be missing us at camp," he said turning sharply.

Biting back tears, Eve followed him at a distance. 


	5. Chapter 5

Cullen bit back a frown and rubbed his forehead. His headaches from the lyrium withdrawal were getting worse. It had happened to him several times now: he would start to recover, believe the worst was behind him, and then get decimated by raging cravings and migraines that hit him twice as hard as before. Ridding one’s self of an addiction was a seemingly endless rollercoaster and his reserves were running low. He sucked back a deep breath and tried to massage the back of his neck. 

The fact that Eve and Solas were missing was not making his head feel any better. The men were nearly finished taking down the camp, blissfully unaware that the Herald and the elf had slipped out in the middle of the night. He’d sent a tracker out to try to locate the pair, but the night’s new snow meant that their trail had been quickly obscured. Cullen was running out of excuses to delay their departure further. 

“Damn it Eve, where are you?” he muttered under his breath. As if in response to his query, Solas suddenly broke through the trees and strode through camp like a bat out of hell. “Solas?” Cullen called after him but received no reply from the back of the quickly moving elf. A moment later, Eve broke through the same spot in the woods, brow furrowed and eyes red. 

She watched Solas’ retreat and made no move to pursue him, her eyes shooting daggers. _Had they quarreled?_ Cullen wondered. _Some sort of lover’s spat?_ He didn’t understand what was going on, but when he saw the look on her face, it didn’t particularly matter to him. He wanted only to help her. “Is everything alright?” he asked, approaching Eve.

At the sight of him she flushed slightly, quiet while she considered her answer. “Not really,” she offered, voice quavering. It was unusual to see her in such distress and it ripped at his heart. He thought about asking where she’d been and what had happened but something about her demeanor urged him to hold his tongue. 

“Do you want to delay today’s rift attack?” he asked instead. It came out too harsh, too business-like. He inwardly cursed himself and softened his tone. “What I mean is...there’s really no hurry. The men are all tired from the bears last night anyhow. The rift can spit out demons for as many days as you want. The area is unpopulated.” He tried slinging a lopsided grin her way, but she had picked a spot in the snow and was staring at it, not meeting his eyes. 

She shook her head slowly. “No,” she said resolutely. “The sooner this mission is over, the better.”

He paused, unsure. “If you’re certain,” he said gently, trying to put all of his unspoken concern into it.

“I am,” she responded.

“Right,” he muttered. He started to turn away, but turned back suddenly. “I know things have been...different between us lately. But I… I want you to know that if you need to talk... About anything. I’m still here.” She raised her eyes to meet his and they shared a brief longing gaze. 

Her small nod broke the spell. “Thank you Cullen,” she said quietly. “I’d like to talk. When we get back. There’s...a lot to say.”

His mind quickened, trying to race with possibilities of what could be going on, but he got nowhere through the thickness of his headache. Truth was, he had things to tell her as well. “For me too. Proper talk, back at Skyhold, after we kill some demons?” Her small, sad smile was a sufficient answer. 

He swiveled. “Let’s mount up people. The rift awaits,” he barked out.

On the ride into the valley and up the river, as was his habit, Cullen watched Eve. She avoided Solas entirely now, not even glancing in his direction. Instead, she rode with the troops, interacting with all of the soldiers in the group, asking questions about their homes, telling bawdy jokes, and easily making herself beloved by all of them. Solas, for his part, seemed coolly detached, as if distracted and unaware of Eve’s earlier distress. It infuriated Cullen. 

No matter how high the stakes, or what was going on, Eve had such an easy way with people. Cullen thought that somehow she had a way of making them feel seen. And when those green eyes of hers locked on him, he felt like he was being seen by the only person that mattered. If he was honest, that reality frightened him. She made him feel huge and small all at once. The effect was disorienting. But he wanted to be lost in it.

Which was why it was time to tell her about his decision to discontinue his lyrium. He’d been hoping it wouldn’t be necessary, that the situation would simply resolve itself without issue. But his withdrawal wasn’t going away and it wasn’t getting better. He’d made the decision to tell her when she was in Emprise du Lion, but she’d avoided him ever since she’d been back. Whatever her reasons, whether she was with Solas now or not, he needed her to know. Cassandra was a sufficient contingency plan, but Eve was the leader of the Inquisition and she also held his heart. He feared her judgment of him, but he also needed it.

They put together a makeshift camp on the river bank near the rift. Solas, Cullen and Eve pinned a map of the area on a tree and gathered around it to discuss tactics.

Solas broke the awkward silence. “The rift is in reach. What’s the plan, Commander?”

“You two have closed far more rifts than I,” admitted Cullen. “The goal of this mission is to serve as a model to train our other troops on rift management. I was hoping the Inquisitor would take point.”

“The rifts have been getting hairier lately,” said Eve. “More demons, more danger. Every time it seems to be worse.” She nodded to the group of of fresh faces. “Are you sure they’re ready?”

“They have been trained well, and are as prepared as we can make them.” Cullen shrugged. “Unfortunately, there’s no way to prepare them emotionally for facing their first demons. But that is why we’re here. They will fight hard. For you, Inquisitor.”

This statement had the opposite effect on Eve that he expected, and a cloud of shame passed over her face. “Then we’d best do this right,” she said.

Eve outlined a quick plan. The map noted a ridge overlooking the rift on one end. She and Solas would climb the ridge and immediately disrupt the rift. Meanwhile, the troops would surround the rift at the tree line and plunge in to clean up the weakened demons.

“There will be a second, and perhaps even a third wave of demons,” Eve said. “When they first emerge from the rift they are angry and vicious. They will immediately attack the first thing they see.”

“The Inquisitor is right. These corrupted spirits are not gentle. They hunger to be in our plane of existence and control it,” said Solas. “The journey across the veil changes them. They will attack blindly. Have your people draw them into clusters. I can use ranged attacks to weaken them while the Inquisitor disrupts the rift again.”

“Once the rift is disrupted, the demons will be disoriented. Your soldiers can clean up fairly quickly,” Eve added. “If you run into trouble, just call to fall back, and we’ll try again. The demons don’t stray too far from the rift.”

“Who protects you two while this is going on?” asked Cullen, eyeing Eve warily. She was quieter than usual, eyes downcast as she outlined the plan. She wasn’t herself. What had Solas done to her?

“I’ll cast shields and wards on us both,” responded Solas. “And we’ll have the physical barrier of the ledge.”

“It’s the ledge that worries me,” said Cullen. “I recognize that you have an excellent vantage from up there, but if there’s trouble, I can’t get to you.” 

Solas broke in. “You look after your soldiers, Commander. I will watch over the Inquisitor.”

“That what worries me,” Cullen said, meeting Solas’ eyes directly with a challenge in them.

Solas barked out a laugh. “Are you saying that I can’t protect her, Commander?” 

“Not as well as I can,” Cullen growled. Eve watched the two men stare each other down, locked in a silent power struggle.

“Stop this!” shouted Eve. “Stop this now.” 

Her voice broke the tension, and both of them immediately looked chagrined. She groaned inwardly. The situation between Cullen and Solas was becoming overtly hostile. This mess was her doing and she had to repair it. But for now, there was an actual task to be accomplished, and she was determined to see it done without them ripping each other’s heads off.

She made her voice like steel: quiet and sharp. “Cullen, your duty is to the soldiers,” she said. She saw the corner of Solas’ mouth quirk upwards and quickly followed with, “Solas, your duty is also to protect the soldiers. You’ll join Cullen on the ground. I’ll engage the rift alone from the ridge.”

“Eve, you can’t…” “Inquisitor this is…” They both broke in simultaneously in protest.

“That is an order and the matter is closed,” she said angrily, slamming her fist on the tree. The clanging sound her armored glove made on the trunk rang out through the woods.

They were silent a moment, both brimming with disapproving energy but both recognizing a command decision when they heard it. Cullen bowed his head in clear acquiescence. “As you say, Inquisitor,” said Solas. 

Some time later, Eve surveyed the rift from the ledge, lying on her belly so she would remain out of view. Forty feet below her, demons swarmed and swayed, keeping time in a dance to strange music that only they could hear. 

There were two shades and a handful of wraiths. _Shouldn’t be too difficult_ , she thought. She felt the familiar tightening in her gut, quickening in her blood, and enhancement of her senses as her body recognized that the battle was imminent. A part of her relished the fight. No matter what was happening in the world or in her personal life at the moment, she never felt as completely herself as when she was in the fray.

Over the left treebank, she saw the signal go up -- a single flaming arrow taking flight against the backdrop of trees and snow. They were in position. She raised herself to standing, found a good foothold, and lifted her hand to the sky.

Instantly, she felt the familiar tug -- the sensation that she was on the verge of being turned inside-out as the weight of dimensions tugged at her. The noise the rift made when she engaged with it was always an angry one. It resisted her interference. Its loud protests made the air vibrate and her teeth tingle. 

A few wraiths had noticed her on the ridge, and launched spirit attacks in her direction. One she side-stepped, holding her connection on the rift. But another hit her dead center. She watched in surprise as it bounced off her harmlessly, dissipated by some unseen force field. Solas was casting shields on her from the ground below. Her eyes widened in surprise. She had not realized he could focus his abilities over such distances. 

Her teeth began to chatter and her gut quavered. The rift wailed with fury, and the air seemed as if it might set itself aflame. She held on, forcing the connection for longer than she thought possible, and then the moment finally came. An ear-splitting thunder crack exploded from the hole in the sky as the connection overloaded and collapsed. Eve’s hand fell. The rift was disrupted. 

The demons below were dazed, their connection to the Fade suddenly severed. The soldiers rushed in. “For the Inquisitor!” one shouted. She could see Cullen issuing orders in the center of the fray, and Solas casting with elegant strokes towards the outer edge. 

She reached for her bow and strung an arrow to provide aid, but the soldiers were remarkably efficient and before she had a clean shot, the demons were destroyed. “Re-form!” she heard Cullen urge them, and the soldiers made a neat circle directly under the rift, shields out and backs to each other. So far, the plan was being executed to perfection. 

The rift groaned and clanked, shooting out rays of sickly light and sputtering angrily as if it were a clock with its gears out of alignment. The scattered green pools fixed their position on the ground and began to grow deeper. She could feel the anchor wince as more demons emerged from the Fade, ripping another hole into the world. Instantly, she set her feet and rose her hand. The beam of light again connected with its target. Below it, she could make out the tall, sinister shapes of several Terror demons and the fiery outline of a Rage demon. 

Soon Solas had frozen most of the Terrors, and the troops seemed to be holding their own against the Rage demon. Eve closed her eyes and tried to focus her will into the anchor. The air around her was charged once more. The disruption was close. It resisted her, but she was nearly there. She could feel it.

With her eyes momentarily closed, she did not see the ground beneath her start to glow. She felt the rumble under her feet too late. A terror demon surfaced from under the rock, popping up directly underneath her feet. Eve was flung into the air, her concentration broken, the connection to the rift severed. Helpless, she was flung over the cliff’s edge.

Cullen had one eye on his troops and one on the Inquisitor the entirety of the battle. He had limited his engagement in the fight, allowing the recruits to get in sorely needed experience against the demons. Then he saw the ground glow green under Eve’s feet and all strategy went out the window. “EVE!” he called in warning as he summoned all of his strength and speed, planting his sword deeply into the fiery rage demon that stood between him and the ledge. He saw Solas’ head whip around at his cry. Eve didn’t move. She couldn’t hear him. 

While the rage demon disintegrated into a pile of smoke and ash, he found himself running towards the ledge, gathering all the air he could into his lungs and calling her name again. But it was too late. He watched, helplessly, as the demon spat from the ground and her body was thrown high into the air and over the ledge. 

His heart stopped but his legs did not. His eyes tracked her limp body’s trajectory to forecast where she would come down and his legs beat a relentless path to that spot. He knew he wasn’t going to make it in time. He was horrified of what he might see when he got there.

Then suddenly, he saw another flash of green, this one swirling like an angry storm. It emerged just over Eve’s head and began to pull. Its tug pulled everything towards it. Dirt, leaves, grass, anything light and unbound was sucked into the swirling vortex immediately. Cullen could feel it pulling on him and his bounding steps began to put more and more air between him and the ground. He felt light and buoyant. Each step carried him yards. The tugging slowed Eve’s fall as well. The effect was subtle but it was just enough. 

Suddenly, he was there, and she landed with an “Oomph” into his arms. The impact was significant, but more like she had jumped from an 8 foot roof as opposed to a forty foot cliff.

Solas was there as well, looking pale and winded. He weakly lifted his staff in a dismissive gesture and the green vortex above Eve’s head vanished. The leaves and dirt hanging in the air fell instantly to the ground, raining debris all around them.

Cullen settled Eve onto her feet. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Eve felt momentarily weak as he raked over her with his golden eyes, looking for injuries. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said gathering herself. “Thanks to you both,” she said. She looked at Solas. “I assume that was you?” she asked, gesturing towards where the vortex had been.

He smiled weakly. “A little trick I’ve been saving for a special occasion.” He frowned and then dropped to his knees.

“Solas!” Eve cried, jumping to his side.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, breathing heavily. “Just weakened.” Behind him, terror demons were still fighting fiercely with the soldiers. “Go. Get it done,” he said. 

Face heavy with emotion, Eve nodded. Placing her hands on her weapons, she drew them wordlessly, and looked at Cullen. He picked up his sword and together they sprinted back into the battle.

The chaos was too great to disrupt the rift now. Nor was retreat a reasonable option. The soldiers were scattered, isolated from each other and pinned down by the terror demons. The only alternative was to fight. With an angry cry, Eve plunged into the battle, stabbing, twirling and slicing her way from one demon to another. The blur of steel and flesh overwhelmed her and she yielded all conscious thought to her base, warrior instincts, moving swiftly from one target to another with only savage destruction in her heart.

She couldn’t judge time. She could have been fighting for a minute or an hour. But suddenly she was out of targets. She searched for more, blades drawn, armour splattered in the black blood and green goop of the demon horde, ready to lash out and strike again. But they were gone. The rift blinked absently, twisting and contorting into crystallized shapes as if suddenly confused why it was there to begin with. Cullen stood panting beside her, crouched and sword ready. “It’s done. Close it,” he said.

With a satisfied sense of relief, she lifted her hand to the sky and...

...nothing. Nothing happened. No beam of light erupted. She felt no tug from her core. She stared at her palm. It was flesh colored and empty. 

The rift creaked and crackled around them, and Cullen looked around uncertainly, as if another group of demons was going to beset them at any moment. “What are you waiting for? Close it now.”

“I...I can’t,” Eve said with shock.

“What? What do you mean you can’t?” said Cullen, confused.

Solas was suddenly there. “What is it?”

She looked at him, panic growing in her eyes. “There’s no tug. There’s nothing. It’s not working anymore.” Solas grabbed her palm and inspected it. 

She wrenched it away from him immediately. “Don’t touch me!” she practically shouted at him. “For all we know, this is _your_ fault.” Solas recoiled like he’d been slapped.

“Damn it, somebody tell me what’s going on!” demanded Cullen.

Eve turned towards him, cradling her anchor hand against her chest. “It’s you, Cullen.”

He was visibly taken aback. “What? What’s me?”

She gestured wildly. “All of this. I can’t control the anchor anymore. And it’s all because of you.”

Cullen’s face clouded. His voice was low and clipped. “I don’t understand. What have I got to do with the anchor?”

Eve shook her head, devastated, and unclear how to proceed. Solas explained. “The anchor is an extension of Eve. What affects her, affects the anchor. In rather unpredictable ways, I’m afraid. The problem has been growing worse.”

Cullen looked at Eve, eyes wide. “So when I...affect...you, whatever that means, the anchor no longer obeys your commands?”

“Never like this, though. At least not when it happened before. It was opening rifts. Not failing to close them.”

“So there have been other incidents,” he said quietly.

Eve nodded mutely, her bottom lip trembling. 

“And you didn’t think to inform me that you had lost control of your powers _before_ I put the lives of these people in harm’s way?” Cullen’s voice was like ice.

Eve didn’t know what to say. Cullen was right. Her embarrassment and pride had put the lives of others at risk needlessly. At every opportunity, she had misstepped. She shouldn’t have kept this secret for so long. She shouldn’t have encouraged Cullen’s affections after the bear. And her stupid insistence to face the ridge from the ledge on her own had only served to further put the people in her charge at risk. 

Shame overwhelmed her. Regardless of what she stood to lose personally, her choices had only endangered those around her. She’d betrayed Cullen and these people. She’d made far too many mistakes and this had gone on far too long. Gulping back the lump in her throat, she admitted to herself the truth: she didn’t deserve to be the Inquisitor. She’d bungled the responsibility when it came down to what really mattered. Cullen’s eyes judged her with cold anger and compounded her already swollen grief. A tear coursed down her cheek.

“Commander.” Solas’ voice cut gently through the tension. “Let us escort the troops back to camp. There are wounded to care for.” He turned to Eve. “I suspect the distance should help. Join us when it’s done.”

She watched the backs of Cullen, Solas, and the soldiers as they departed. Cullen did not turn back once. She was alone. Under the green aurora of the rift, she slipped to the ground and let her tears flow freely, watering the grass where they hit the ground. 

But she had little time for regrets, because moments after their departure, she felt it. The anchor glowed hot and vital in her hand once more. Eyes wet, she set her mouth tightly and lifted her hand to the sky until the fade exploded inwardly on itself and the rift was finally silenced.


End file.
